


Five Times John Wished He Was Something Else and One Time He Was Perfect

by FlameFox345



Series: 5+1 Things - Hamilton [5]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff, Fluff & Angst, I have many feelings for this idiot, Implied Smut, John Laurens is my son, John is sad, Laurens centric, M/M, SUPER IMPLIED SMUT, Sad John, and depressed, and underappreciated
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-20
Updated: 2016-09-20
Packaged: 2018-08-16 04:20:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8086906
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FlameFox345/pseuds/FlameFox345
Summary: Five times John wished he was something else and one time he was perfect AKA the journey through John'a life and when he finally learned to love himself.





	

**Author's Note:**

> WARNING There is a lot of implied violence and sexual content. THERE ARE SLURS USED IN THIS, PLEASE READ AT YOUR OWN RISK.

Five Times John Wished He Was Someone Else and One Time He Was Perfect

  
1.)  
John Laurens had always been small for his age, but no one usually payed attention to that fact when they were busy dodging his fists and feet.

John could beat someone into the ground without a second thought, as long as they weren't four times his size.

He was only eight when his mother abandoned him, his father, his five year old sister, and a newborn little girl.

John was a loud kid, and he often got in trouble for his mouth, but after his mom left, he was silent.

His sister would tease him for it, and constantly told him that he was a wimp. Sometimes, John wished he was different.

Life was fine without his mother for a year or so, and then his father found the alcohol and the drugs. Despite their fights, John loved his sisters, and since he was the oldest and the strongest, someone had to fight for them.

John would go to bed with bruises and broken teeth. Every morning, he struggled to cover up cuts and secretly stole his sister's makeup to cover up any discoloration.

He was only ten years old, and he felt like he was twenty.

His sisters didn't know, he wouldn't dare let them find out.

He could deal with it on his own, he really could.

But still, his father was three times his size, and little fists could only do so much.

The night of his eleventh birthday, he was bleeding and shivering on the living room floor. His father slammed his bedroom door, leaving John alone in the pitch black of night.

John could take the beatings and the insults, but he still wished he was his sister, because then maybe, he would be the one getting protected.

He wished he didn't have to risk his life every night, and he wished he didn't get odd looks from people in school when he winced at a certain movement.

He wished his mom hadn't left.

But there wasn't much he could do now.

 

2.)  
John had always wanted to be involved in politics.

But on the other hand, he loved art.  
He had been praised by multiple friends and teachers for his artistic skills, and while he didn't want to do it as a profession, he still loved the hobby dearly.

His favorite things to draw were turtles, multiple colors and breeds, shapes and sizes. He drew them in the margins of his notebooks, random papers, and his sketchbooks were filled with he little creatures.

John was not a cautious person.

He walked slowly from the bathroom to his lunch table, and he didn't care that he sat alone, he really didn't.

He had placed his books down before he left, and he expected to find them exactly where he left them.

He walked to his table, and before he could sit down, the first thing he saw was his sketchbook.

Pages ripped out and drawn on, black marker on the back and cover, each drawing destroyed.

Tears welled up in his eyes, and he wished he didn't hear the giggles form the table behind him.

He sniffed, leaning down to pick up the ripped pages and helplessly stuff them back into the destroyed sketchbook.

His eyes lingered on the words etched into the pages every now and then, insults that he couldn't bare to see.

He pretended not to see them.

He wasn't very hungry anymore.

He gathered his things and walked out of the lunch room, heading to the art room.

He wished he didn't have to hide.

 

3.)  
"John Laurens?" The teacher called, standing at the front of the room staring at a white sheet of paper.

John sighed, raising his hand and muttering "here."

He heard a chuckle behind him and he was tempted to turn around to ask what was so funny.

The phrase was barely audible, but John managed to hear it.

"He's here and he's queer," a male voice whispered, and a light and airy female giggle responded.

John rolled his eyes, he's played this game since the beginning of middle school, he could still play it now.

He simply turned around in his seat and raised an eyebrow at the two behind him. The boy scoffed, leaning forward every so slightly. "What you looking at, fag? How about you turn around, kind your own goddamn business." He hissed.

John bit his tongue, he shouldn't indulge him, but god, it was tempting.

"The little bitch is speechless, maybe he wants to kiss you? Do you want that John?" The girl asked, giggling quietly.

John's eye pulsed, and his lip curled in a snarl.

"I think he's gonna cry! Are you actually gonna cry? Why don't you go home to your mommy?" The boy said, and John was out of his seat fast.

He grabbed the boy by the neck, and pulled him close, "say a word about my mother and I knock your fucking eyes back into your skull," he growled, before his fist flew and snapped the boy's head back.

Another kid jumped up to pull him back, but all he could see was red, and the blood that leaked from the boy's nose.

"Office, now!" His teacher yelled, and for just a moment, John wished he was that boy, so maybe he would get pitied and praised as the victim.

As he walked down the hall to the office with a bloody fist, he wished he wasn't alive.

 

4.)  
When John met Lafayette and Hercules, it was like God had just unlocked the door to heaven and invited him in for a fucking party.

And then they got together, and it was like everything was just out on repeat.

"Hey Laf, can we hang out?"

"Sorry, John, I have a date."

"That's fine."

"Hey Herc, you wanna go to a protest?"

"Sorry, bro, Laf and I have a date tonight."

"Oh okay."

"I can cancel if you want."

"No, go have fun."

He loved them both dearly, but John never had a relationship, not even a first kiss, he was the odd one out in the group.

He tried to be supportive, he did, and he was extremely happy that they had gotten their shit together so fast.

Sometimes he just wished it was different.

Sometimes he wished they weren't together, and maybe hey would have more time for him.

 

 

5.)  
John and Alex were attached at the hip, two pees in a pod, a hurricane and a tornado, a natural disaster.

It was funny that people called them that, a natural disaster, because they absolutely were.

Alex was a ladies man, John hadn't met one girl who didn't think Alex was attractive.

John hadn't gone a single moment in the time since he met Alex not believing Alex was attractive.

It was a struggle really, because every few weeks, Alex brought home a new girl.

This week, however, it was different.

Her name was Eliza, a short black haired girl with deep brown eyes that John thought could probably see into his soul. She was sweet and kind, and John absolutely hated her.

Alex was so in love with her, it hurt John to be near them when they were together.

But he was happy for Alex. Alexander deserves to have a happy life, even if John wasn't in it.

But still, John couldn't help it.

It was his twentieth birthday, nothing special to him really. Since John had met Alex, they would always have a video game night on his birthday.

John didn't blame Alex or forgetting.

He wouldn't blame anyone for forgetting.

He sat on his bed, quiet, staring at his phone screen in the dark, opened to Alex's contact.

The bed next to him was empty, Herc must have gone over to Laf's dorm.

He slowly typed his message, his fingers feeling numb.

'Hey, are you coming over tonight?'

Five minutes later, no response.

'Alex, aren't we having video game night?'

Ten minutes later, no response.

'Alexander? Are you getting these?'

Fifteen minutes later, no response.

'Alex?'

Thirty minutes later-

'Hey John, I'm with Eliza so my phone's gonna be off if you know what I mean ;p, I'll talk tomorrow.'

Tears welled up in his eyes, and John clenched his phone tightly before throwing it across the room.

He turned twenty alone.

 

+1  
It was a quiet morning, the only sound of the shower running.

John stared blankly at his reflection in the mirror.

His eyes trailed over his stomach, to the facades along his hips, to the stretch marks on his thighs.

His stare lingered on the barely there scars etched into his wrists.

Finally, his eyes landed on the deep purple bruises on his neck and collarbone, fresh teeth marks and scratches.

He glared at his reflection so hard that he didn't hear the shower shut off.

He also didn't hear Alex step out behind him.

He did, however, feel the arms encircle his waist and a head hook over his shoulder.

"Hey baby, what're you looking at? I thought you were joining me?" Alex asked, voice purring into his ear.

John stayed silent, locking eyes with his own reflection. Alex followed his line of sight, catching his stare in the mirror.

John watched as Alex's eyes seemed to fill with understanding.

"You know your beautiful, right?" Was Alex's next question.

"I love your mouth, your lips, the way your tongue feels on mine," Alex turned John to press a light kiss to his lips, "I love your eyes, I love how I can tell that you love me because your eyes tell me everything."

"I love your body, I love chest, your stomach, your hips. I love your voice, your hair, so smooth."

He leaned in closer, and heir breathes mingled.

"I love how you feel around me, I love you moan my name. I love how your lips feel on mine, I love the way you sound you cum, I love the way you're never afraid to tell me what you want, what you need."

John's breath hitched, and his cheeks lit aflame.

Alex gently bit down on John's shoulder.

"I love you."

"I love you, too."

"Now come on, get in with me. Let me show you what else I love about you."


End file.
